Morgan, Who's On Your Mind?
by G.N. Over-Kite
Summary: Every day, the Shepherds train and toil away in preparation to face the Fell Dragon. Yet, now they find themselves able to relax, because somehow it's the postgame... This is a tale of a tactician and his future daughter, among other people, as Robin suddenly realizes just how close Morgan is to the other future boys! Just how far will his daddy instincts go to protect his girl?
1. The Life and Times of a Tactician

**Author's Note:**** Hey there, everyone! This is my first foray into the fanfic world of Fire Emblem! This story was **_**really **_**overdue, seeing as I've told fellow author, Dane Namor, I'd do it months ago. One ruined desktop, distracting games, focusing on other stories, and some lost progress later, I'll finally get to write something I've wanted to do since I made a pen-name!**

**Also, Happy Birthday to Morgan! What better time to start up this story than today?**

**Hope you like it, because... it's different! Maybe?**

**Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is the property of Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. I do not claim ownership of anything pertaining to the series, nor of any related properties. Any and all other references to other works are also not owned by me. This is a nonprofit fan work.**

**Picture**** Credit:**** Official illustration of Female Morgan for Fire Emblem: Awakening, by Yusuke Kozaki. Man, I wanted to create a crappy MSPaint portrait of Morgan with a heart above her head, but arrangements screwed with that! Damn...**

**Pairing Warning: Male Robin/Tharja, Various others based on my playthrough, Female Morgan/?**

**Rated T for: Language, suggestive themes, ENDGAME, POSTGAME, AND SPOTPASS SPOILERS, and...**

**Original Post Date: 5/5/14**

* * *

"Hmm, I see. Thank you, Father! I now know what to do should I ever be cornered by a group of Paladins and Wyvern Lords in a dark alleyway!"

"Hah! Although the advice I gave may be sound, tell me, how did you even come up with such an absurd situation? Halfway through, you told me they sprout ballistae from their chest and threatened to open fire!"

Robin had been spending time in his tent with his daughter, Morgan, who had recounted a hypothetical situation she begged her father to resolve. She takes after her father with her love of learning tactics and strategem. Coupled with her boundless energy and fatherly admiration, Morgan was exhausting for the Chief Tactician.

After some weeks of traveling the land, the Shepherds eventually encountered Lucina's comrades from the future, and whenever each and every one would reveal their parentage, the couple in question had very interesting reactions. Morgan was one such person, and the story surrounding her discovery was certainly one for the scholars to write and have a laugh about..., when the wife was nowhere to be found. Although Morgan had lost a great deal of her memories, along with forgetting her mother and sister for the most part, every day was positive for the junior tactician.

"Father, how does one get such a high score in Tome Stackers like you do?"

Robin looked up from his charts and gave his future daughter a puzzled look. "A... high score," he muttered, "I don't think I understand, Morgan."

One index finger from her pointed to Robin's workstation, where he found that the various hardcover books he had amassed throughout his career as Chief Tactician were reaching up to the point that it bulged out of his tent. Morgan looked at it in awe, while her father could only feel embarrassed.

"I..., uh, don't think that was on purpose, Morgan..."

His response only intensified the admiration in her eyes. "Ahh! You have become so well-trained that you achieve this without even trying! I must strive to become more diligent, so I can one day be your equal, Father!" With that, Morgan immediately began working on her own contribution to the almighty sport of Tome Stacking.

When Robin looked at what Morgan was doing now, he was less than pleased. "That is not something you should emula— Is that Gaius' Confectionary Catalogue?" Sure enough, his daughter just placed in the pile a sticky-looking book decorated in hardened faux-frosting. Whatever made it sticky should probably be left for someone else to find out.

"He's been scouring the camp all day for— No, not Owain's 'Tales of the Pheraean Prince'!" A seemingly weathered tome with a portrait said to be of a young Eliwood of Pherae. This wasn't any ancient treasure, however, as Owain kept saying it was. It had literally been purchased off of Anna a few days ago, and she even said to his face that she copied it off another publication when she made it! Owain then proceeded to subject the tome to all kinds of procedures to get it to look old. From leaving it in the bonfire to dropping it into barrels of water, it constituted abuse to literature; a crime that Robin doesn't easily forgive.

"I mean, I don't particularly care if he uses the Einherjar to reenact the scenes, but he cries so very nasally when he gets denied even one thing to— Have you gone daft?!" Morgan produced an utterly large tome that was almost her size and about twice as wide! A leather-bound tome that had a simple picture of two clashing weapons on it, one of which was a certain conqueror's Wolf Berg. "That monstrous tome belonged— er, belongs to Walhart! Something about a manifesto or— You know what, I care even less about it being used like this right now." the tactician grumbled. "The dastard had me listen to the latest chapters he had written in Risen blood. I was unaware they even had blood, seeing as whenever I slayed one they _crumbled and evaporated into dust!_ He went on and on about the _mess hall_ was the one thing that would prove his theories correct about how if it disappeared, his way of ruling would be completely correct!"

He mentioned "belongs" in a present tense when it came to the Conqueror, so it would be safe to assume that this is where the spoiler warning comes in.

Anyways, the Shepherds had recently gone through a grueling ordeal, having cut a swath through a horde of Risen at Origin Peak and defeated the one major figure on the way to Grima, the late Validar's right-hand woman, the wily and seductive Aversa. After the Fell Dragon took to the skies around there, however, is where the tale gets strange...

* * *

In the days after the Divine Dragon, Naga, would offer her assistance in reaching the Fell Dragon, a strange lull swept over the Shepherds' mindset, causing each and every member to not feel rushed in taking this final stand for the fate of the world, to the utter bafflement of Naga herself.

It seemed that the Fell Dragon also shared this feeling, as it just hovered around Origin Peak doing nothing menacing except being an eyesore in all this time. Perplexing.

The Shepherds spent some of their time venturing in the Outrealms, indulging in slaying unusually lucrative and experienced Risen, enjoying the odd resorts that were in place, and generally picking fights with every single tough dastard they came across. Never again would they doubt the power of the Annas...

Then..., they came across a certain chain of events, which definitely brought mixed reactions to every one of them.

As they ventured south into some outlaying islands, the Shepherds encountered a roving gang of seafaring bandits who have had a hand in subjugating many coastal towns and ports. As they effortlessly quelled the threat, however, the Exalt, Chrom, came face-to-face with someone he never expected to have to meet again...

The Mad King, Gangrel, responsible for leading the Theocracy of Plegia to a bloody war with the Halidom of Ylisse and relishing in the death of the former Exalt, Chrom and Lissa's sister Emmeryn, stood there pathetically mopping the sand amidst the death around him that the Shepherds were dealing.

Chrom tried to be diplomatic and understanding, like his sister would be, but saying that him flinging the Exalted Falchion at Gangrel and attempting to strangle him was either of those things would be lying. It didn't help that the fallen king kept trying to leap and run into the paths of the Shepherds' attacks like it was going out of style. Only through a combination of pity and restraining the Exalt would they emerge victorious and with Gangrel in one piece, volunteering him to join shortly after.

This would be a sign of things to come.

Not long after recruiting the Mad King, something beckoned the Shepherds to go north from Valm Castle, where they had once fought a campaign, with the aid of the Resistance as well as the Voice of the Divine Dragon and straight into the heart of Walhart's forces.

Lo and behold there he stood in a vast field, thought beaten, the Conqueror in command of fearsome classes of Risen ready to do battle.

The Shepherds won. Walhart lost... and joined. End of story...

... is what would be said, had it not have been for—

"Father, are you okay?"

* * *

Robin awoke from his bout of introspective daydreaming, which was brought about due to the fact that he had been staring up at how high Morgan was stacking tomes. Dear gods, it had to have been at least twice as high as his tent! The energetic girl somehow found the time and effort to cut a hole through the roof and kept stacking like there was no tomorrow.

_'Well, it has been that kind of journey, after all...'_ he thought, running a hand through his Type 2-styled black hair. It _was _that kind of world, after all.

Morgan had been staring at her father for a bit, wondering just exactly what he was thinking. In the end, she came up with the right answer...

"You know, Father, sometimes you can be rather strange." she said with an innocent look to her features, before turning back to work on her stack.

Robin had to restrain himself from verbally reprimanding his daughter, only to find that... she might be right. Having gotten to know each and every Shepherd most likely involved losing a bit of one's sanity, given the amounts of problems each and every one had. Especially the woman he had married, hoo boy! But Robin would never dare to even think that, lest his wife somehow sense it and—

"Robin, my dear~"

"Gah!"

Robin leapt up from his seat in surprise, yelping as high as his Type 3 voice could. As soon as his heart began beating in his chest again, he turned to his workstation and looked below the table...

"Oh! Oh, thank the gods, it's only you, Tharja...!"

Reclining underneath the table with her legs propped up on the side was his wife, Tharja. The best way to describe her would be calling her a dark beauty, for underneath her soft smile and supple body lies an extremely dark personality that neither friend nor foe would ever wish to cross. Always showing preferential treatment towards Robin even in the most public of settings, it came as a surprise to no one when he eventually proposed to her.

"Yes, my love? What is it you... _need_ from me, hm?" Tharja smiled slyly at her husband, slowly shifting her body and tantalizing him with the sounds her clothing made as they rubbed against her skin and the oaken desk. Robin flustered at her advances; even after she awakened an amorous side in him, he still tried to maintain an image of stability during the day, especially since...

"Tharja, I'm very glad to see you," he sighed, before quietly ranting, "but _Morgan_ is _right behind me_, and I still have to finalize these marching plans for our final assault against Grima, and Frederick is a stickler for punctu—"

His wife then held a silencing finger to Robin's mouth, propping herself up on his chair while kneeling on the floor. Her right arm was surreptitiously placed right by his lap...

"Shh-shh-shh, of course, you're a very busy man," she said under her breath, "but when you need to relax, _Robin..._," she held his name on her tongue for a second as she slowly slinked back into her cubby right below his work surface, "then you let me know. _Whenever you want_."

Robin audibly gulped. Tharja was always very persuasive with her mannerisms, but she never overstepped the boundary by following through with forceful actions; she allowed Robin to choose to love her. This was true back when before they were married, but now that they were, well..., at least Morgan was present to prevent her mother from going hands-on with her father...

"Is that Mother?" Morgan chirped from the height of her tome stack, probably about three tents high. _How did she get up there? How tall is that stack?!_

Tharja sighed from her hideaway, tiredly greeting "Yeah, hello Morgan..." while halfheartedly waving her hand.

"Hi, Mother! It's great that the family's all here!" Letting go of the stack, Morgan quickly dropped to the ground, much to the shock of her father.

"**Morgan, what the...?!**"

Morgan quickly pulled out a package from her tactician's robe, holding it out in front of her as she plummeted with a smile on her face.

In no time at all, a magical circle had formed underneath her and upon impact, kicked up a bunch of feathers with her soft landing. Feathers?

"Ah, that was thrilling! I love this new tome of mine!" Morgan cheered, snuggling with what was apparently a magic tome by her cheeks.

Robin found himself frozen in fear with his arm outstretched, almost as if he were trying to reach out for Morgan before her "last moments".

"Well, Noire's not here, so I guess the family _isn't_ all here! What's with that look on your face, Father? Haha, you're silly!"

Morgan's reverie broke Robin out of his stupor, just as Tharja emerged from beneath the desk to stand beside him.

"A-Anyway... **Morgan**!" Robin shouted.

The junior tactician locked up when her father addressed as such."Y-Yes, Father?"

"Do you have any idea how worried your mother and I were with that jape?!"

"I wasn't worried."

Robin quickly turned his neck to find his Dark Mage wife smirking... darkly. Then again, she didn't really have any other kind of smirk.

"M-Mother's right," Morgan clumsily started, fumbling to present Robin the tome she used to safely descend. "Look! This is pretty nifty magic here!"

Father Dearest eyed the now unwrapped book with a scrutinizing look. It looked innocuous enough: the book's covers were indented with runic letters, with a golden feather emblazoned in the top center. Morgan held it closed, so he couldn't peruse its passages, but the lettering on the cover told him all he needed to know.

"Falcons' Loft?"

"Yup," nodded Morgan, "it's a much better-sounding name than 'Pillow Tome', am I right?" Expecting her parents to agree with her, her smile fell when neither of them said a thing. "Aww..."

Robin had a stern look for his daughter as he asked, "And what would have happened if the magic had failed you, Morgan?"

"Hmm, I think it's proven that my head is harder than most?" Morgan didn't seem to grasp her father's sense of worry. "Anyway, it wouldn't have failed! Laurent made this for me, isn't he the greatest?"

"Laurent? Miriel and Kellam's boy?" Robin asked himself. Yes, the very same studious, young man whom they found in a desert village somehow, after various instances of fighting brigands, following clues, encountering mirages that looked way too real, and leaving with a healing staff said to have been blessed by a goddess. Robin still keeps finding sand on his person to this day.

"Mm-hmm!" Morgan then stashed away her Pillow Tome. "He keeps finding out all this fun stuff to do with magic! He's so smart!"

Robin inwardly groaned, having seen the young man perfect and tweak these kinds of novelty spells before. Citing a fascination with these mundane magics that he and the future mage had, it made sense that Laurent would wish to further their usefulness.

Tharja couldn't look any more disinterested if she tried. "Hmm, that's nice, Morgan," she droned, "Don't you have something else you could be doing?"

"Oh! Yes, I do! Thank you, Mother!" To her father's surprise and her mother's relief, Morgan quickly grabbed a book from the stack, miraculously not causing it to fall, and quickly ran out of the tent.

...

"Huh?"

Robin stepped out of the tent to follow her, much to the chagrin of his possessive wife, and saw that Morgan had stuck her fingers in her mouth, whistling sharply into the air. Robin looked on as his daughter stood there, waiting for something to happen.

"Morgan, what exactly is going—"

At that point, a sudden rush of air blew down on the area, causing the tent to flap and the tome stack to sway dangerously. It wasn't long before an aged wyvern carefully set itself down in front of the tactician child. In its mouth it held a curious accessory...

"Ah, thanks Minerva! You're the best!" thanked Morgan as she began rubbing the top of the wyvern's head, accepting the thing she held in her mouth. It was Gerome's mask, as evidenced from an irate young man yelling in the distance. As thanks, Morgan presented with the tome she plucked earlier, setting it inside the wyvern's anticipating maw. "He can have that! Good girl!"

Minerva growled contently at Morgan's continued petting, before she took flight and kicked up some more disruptive wind.

Robin slowly walked up to his daughter and cleared his throat, surprising his daughter and causing Morgan to jump up.

"AHH! OH! Father, don't do that," she panted, clutching the area around her heart, "you almost scared the hair off my head!"

The tactician stopped before her, looking a little lost as he asked, "Morgan, is that... Gerome's mask?"

Immediately perking up, Morgan proudly proclaimed, "Yup! That guy is so serious all the time, I figured he should lighten up by me relieving him of some weight!" as she held up the future wyvern rider's mask up like a trophy. "I gave him a book on masks, too! He at least deserves some choices in what to hide his face in. My gold is on the mask of Legion!"

To say that Robin was starting to feel exhausted with his future daughter's antics would be an understatement.

"As much as I am... grateful to hear you are finding ways to entertain yourself, Morgan, I must return to my planning. Grima waits for no man."

To this, Morgan tilted her head in an expression of uncertainty. "I thought that he _was_?"

Robin couldn't refute _that_ logic. Seriously, the Shepherds spent what felt like months venturing in the Outrealms, as well as traveling to the farthest reaches of this world and somehow recruiting people thought to have been dead! Well, Gangrel **had** been bloodied by an avenging Chrom before the reencounter, Walhart was dubious due to the fact that he then led _Risen_ against them, Emmeryn was a rather tragic case, Yen'fay was from a different future, confirming that this world's version is dead, and Aversa had been unceremoniously plucked from the air by Noire's arrow, falling flat on her wrinkled, stupid face. She hadn't died from that, either! Robin still has no idea what to make of Priam. Wait, he wasn't dead to begin with...

P-Point is, the Fell Dragon sure was taking its sweet time!

Morgan shook her head a bit and unerringly chirped, "Anyway, you are right, Father! I have to go anyway, it's almost time for my date with Inigo!"

Robin jarringly changed expression into one of shock and unexpected surprise. "Inigo? Wait, what is this about a da—"

"Please don't disturb my Tome Stack, Father! Bye!" Morgan ran off without worrying to look back.

The Chief Tactician just stood there, mouth agape at what he just heard. "My Morgan... is going out on a d...d-d, date?"

"Of course she is, Robin." Robin didn't move as Tharja stepped out of the tent with a swish to her movements. "That girl is at about that age, which means that the intoxicating need for companionship now spreads deep into her mind. I neither have the care nor interest in stopping my... daughter with her newfound interest." With that, she gently grabs Robin's limp arm and pulls it in the direction of the now-unoccupied tent. With a soft voice and an inviting look in her eyes, Tharja said, "Come. Let us retire for the afternoon, and spend time... quenching the need for companionship~."

To her surprise, Robin pulled away from her embrace, finding himself pacing back and forth as he began to stutter, "I, I know that that is p-perfectly reasonable, but s-something inside me is telling me to _not_ accept this, like this is completely and unequivocally _wrong_!" The very thought of Morgan so much as talking to a boy was starting to enrage him.

Tharja... didn't use the right words to calm him down, that's for sure... "Morgan is... a unique child. She's optimistic and hopeful, _joy_, and that tends to draw people in, so to speak. If Minerva there has taken a liking to her, perhaps more young men wish to seek out our daughter..."

Robin's eyes shot up in realization.

_'Dear gods, they are! The future boys **have** been starting to act awkward around Morgan!'_

Why, just the other day, Brady was accusing her to be a spy, and before that, Owain made it pretty clear he considered her to be his "destined partner"! Yarne also seemed to tolerate her frighteningly forward advances on his ears...! ... Then again, she's so energetic compared to them, that perhaps they just couldn't keep up. Still, Inigo was a known ladychaser, and Gerome wasn't the type of person to easily let Minerva get attached to other people. Even Laurent was starting to act this way, sharing an affinity with books, even though he was even less accepting of Tome Stackers.

_'Hmm, perhaps Laurent would not be a bad— NO! No young man is going to court my daughter unless I say so! That is final!'_ An unusual sense of foreboding began to cloud his thoughts; no one was going to take his daughter away from him!

His wife picked up on the change and actually felt the hairs behind her head stand on edge. However, Tharja was the type to derive _pleasure_ from such sensations. Especially from her beloved. "_Oh, Robin~,_" she pleasantly moaned, cupping her hands around her face, "The darkness inside you is swirling around with such _drive_! It is positively **enthralling**!" The honey dripping from her words made it clear she relished her husband's current disposition.

Robin snapped out of his daze and quickly turned around to meet her, holding his hands up as he panickedly yelled, "N-NO! There's nothing _dark_ about this! I... I was only thinking that... m-maybe Morgan is starting to draw the other lads' attention, and... it sounds petty now that I think about it." His panicked tone mellowed out when he realized what he was saying. "Ugh, that was revolting of me to even think...," he sullenly mumbled.

Tharja then approached Robin and quietly whispered in his ear, "Morgan had accepted a pair of gemstones from the imaginative boy..."

That teared it.

With a crazed look in his eyes, Robin stormed back into his tent and yelled "NO ONE'S GOING TO LAY THEIR HANDS ON MY DAUGHTER! EVEN IF SHE'S THE ONE INITIATING IT!" The Chief Tactician brusquely swept all of the war strategies and tomes off his desk, and brought out the roster that he had of the entire army. The pages went in a blur as he went through it, stopping every so often and gingerly to earmark where the sections of each individual lad began, before resuming to burn through the book.

"So, all these boys want to get acquainted with my daughter...! I will just have to see what I can do about that!" Whether it was out of parental worry or dark powers, Robin sounded _very unbalanced_. He would formulate a plan after acquiring more information on each of them. Owain, Brady, Laurent, Inigo, Yarne, and Gerome, all needed to be scoped out to determine whether or not they were a threat to Morgan's... safety.

But what if _Morgan_ would be the one to seek them out...?

So many variables, and Robin's mind was on fire; hopefully his renowned thought process will win out the day, and find out who is on Morgan's mind!

Still standing outside, Tharja sinisterly giggled to herself for inciting this change in her husband's behavior. "My, I don't think I can contain myself! Seeing Robin so flustered is sparking something _deep_ within my core! Of course, him assuming the role of a protective father is its **own** kind of satisfaction! _Mmm-hmhmhm...!_"

As she turned to hopefully reap the benefits of her actions, however, someone hurried up to her and stopped.

"Excuse me, Sunshine?"

She didn't have to turn around to know that Gaius the thief had been the one to address her, though the unusual pattering of his feet to his regularly flippant manner of his speech was a concern.

"What is it? Can't you see I'm about to become busy?"

"Do you know if Bubbles Jr had a book on her or put it somewhere or— Ah, screw it!" With a slight shove and a short apology, Gaius barged into Robin's tent.

"Hey! What are you— Don't touch that! Gaius, why—!"

"Teach your kid not to steal, Bubbles! 'Specially if it's from me. Now if you'll excuse me, I got some apple crisps to track down!"

Gaius exited as quickly as he left, with sticky Confectionary Catalogue in hand, and making off for the nearest town.

Robin peeked out from the tent in stunned silence, before looking up and finding the Tome Stack had been unaffected by the candy enthusiast's rummaging.

"Well..., that happened."

"Indeed," started Tharja, before grabbing her husband by the collar and dragging him inside while sweetly saying, "You need to relax, my love, come and relieve your anguish in the arms of your wife! _Mmhmhm!_"

"W-Wait! I still need to—"

Robin's protests would be muffled by the flaps of his tent closing in.

Oh well, perhaps his planning and investigations could stand to start a little later...

* * *

**A/N: The tales of an overprotective father begins! Also, everyone's kinda nuts: the story! Yeah, I may have played fast and loose with the characters here... Then again, this is a humor story.**

**This story was also released under a self-imposed event, meaning for my one-year anniversary on this site, this May 14th. I will try to get back to this as quick as I can, though I can't promise anything regular. Who do you think is on the mind of the junior tactician?**

**Please leave a review, and maybe check off some boxes by the review field! See ya next time!**


	2. Of Dates and Petty Surveillance

**Author's Note: Twenty-three days since last I posted!**

**...**

**Okay, that may be a problem... As you may or may not know, I am currently handling five stories, with one constantly updating and the rest sporadic, including this one! Remember to follow, so you can keep up!**

**All right! Time to get into a new chapter of the fatherly blues! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is the property of Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. I do not claim ownership of anything pertaining to the series, nor of any related properties. Any and all other references to other works are also not owned by me. This is a nonprofit fan work. Endgame, Postgame, and SpotPass spoilers are in effect.**

**Rated T for: Language, suggestive themes, and the depths of a tactician's mind on a Dad high.**

**Original Post Date: 5/28/14**

* * *

Barely shuffling out of the tent as he adjusted his tactician's robe and tied it in the center, Robin had just spent the better half of an hour with the wife, whose dark charms had been able to divert his mind from petty vengeance against the future lads, and reducing it to maybe just snooping on them. Though, that had been the plan from the start, save for enacting said fatherly vengeance should he find out that they eyed Morgan in a more than friendly manner.

"_Ahh..._, what a wonderful day! The sun is high in the sky, the wind is blowing at a reasonable pace, and the Shepherds are all enjoying it away from—"

"Robin?"

"Gahh!"

Robin stumbled in place as he realized that Frederick was standing right outside his tent.

"Dear gods, man, warn someone when you're standing outside one's tent!"

Good ol' Sir Frederick the Wary just stood there as Robin repeatedly pounded his chest as if trying to restart it. Clearing his throat, Frederick calmly stated his intent. "I merely wanted to know of how the plans were coming along, Robin."

Still taking a moment to settle down, Robin eventually found it in him to respond, albeit shakily. "Well, Frederick, they are coming along well, though I needn't remind you of our current situation, do I?"

"Yes, I... am reluctant to admit that perhaps you were right about this strange respite that the Gods have graced us with..." Even when he admits he had been wrong, Frederick always did so with class, so you couldn't really be angry with him.

Frederick had been among the first to question the Chief Tactician's decision to immediately back away from Naga's assistance in order to "powerlevel and stuff", a term that even Robin admits just popped into his head at the time. This was despite the overwhelming lull that incited this decision to begin with, but they don't call ol' Fred "the Wary" for no reason. There were other dissenters, but the lull effectively rendered their motivation to mush.

That was weeks ago.

"Even so," Frederick continued, "one cannot rely on such a miracle to keep for much longer. If it is not too much trouble, we shall meet with the Exalt to discuss your current plans three days on the morrow."

Robin chuckled. For all the weirdness associated with Chrom's trusted lieutenant, it's actually very admirable of Frederick to always commit order to this chaos.

"Sure, Frederick. I will have it done by th—"

He was interrupted by a sudden gust that kicked up some of the loosened dirt from Old Miner— New Min— Uh..., Future Minerva's landing, right in Robin's face. Frederick had been facing away from the dust, yet he wishes he had done the same as Robin right now...

"_Agh...!_ That was sudden! Oh, that stings!" Robin then felt something nudge his shoulder. "Oh, thanks Frederick...!" He was handed a flask of water to douse his eyes. _Always prepared. _After a few moments, Robin took the time to blink before gratefully addressing his colleague, "Much better! Honestly, so prepared, thank you Freder...ick?"

The seasoned head of the Order of Ylissean Knights kept collected as he had a noticeable scrunch around his eyes, as if trying to will something into being, or in this case, out of being.

"It's... honorable that you chose to emulate Lord Chrom's example before I arrived, but I fear you may feel... a bit inadequate... Good day." With a simple, stiff bow of his head, Frederick shuffled his feet rather quickly away from Robin, faster than usual.

Robin blinked a few times, unsure of what that was all about. "Weird...," he muttered as he turned back and walked into the tent, where Tharja had been laying in his bed waiting for him.

"Hello again, Robin~," she cooed, "Are you here mayhaps to spend some more time with me?" She then shuffled around as to expose more of her body from the blanket, staring at him with come-hither eyes. As he awkwardly looked away from the invitation, she continued in a sultry tone, "You know, that Frederick couldn't be any more wrong..."

"H-How's that, Tharja?" replied Robin.

Licking her lips, she responded, "You are most certainly _not_ inadequate in my eyes, as that draft of wind had reminded me, my love. On the contrary, our very bodies know just how well-suited they are to one another! _Mmmhmhm!_"

...

Robin went from slowly looking confused, to shocked, and finally, to horrified when he realized just what it was Tharja and Frederick both referred to...

He had _only_ worn his tactician's robe when he exited the tent...

"_**OH MY**** GODS...!**_" he frantically cried as he scrambled to put on everything that composed his usual outfit, much to the displeasure of his wife, who looked on with a scowl as she listlessly dropped the blanket from her upper half, as she too got up to dress halfheartedly. Even she knew when it wasn't apropos to seduce her husband.

"Are you really going to do this, Robin?" she asked in a dull tone, adjusting the bottom of her Dark Mage's outfit, before realizing something in her head. _'Hm, I could've sworn I had been promoted for the final time to a Sorceress a week ago, why am I somehow wearing this outfit all the time__?'_ Shaking those strange thoughts as she finished dressing, she continued speaking, "I mean, is this goose chase worth it, you have better things to do with your time, I feel."

"There's no time, Tharja, Inigo could be advancing on Morgan as we speak!" Robin was a quick dresser out of necessity for the wars (among other things...), as he was now already dressed in the usual, he just now had to rummage through his workstation for supplies necessary for what he needs to do.

"You mean absolutely fail at wooing her, while our daughter just laughs it off? It's up to you, then..." As if on cue, Robin then ran up to her and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, to which she ended up blushing from as she grumbled, "I'm still mad... You _will_ make this up to me tonight, Robin! I will hold you to that..."

"Of course, Darling," he responded, smiling, "Take care, Tharja, and don't experiment on Noire again, she's still breaking out into allergies whenever she gets within 2 paces of the... silver weaponry..."

"_She_ came to me for help with her burgeoning seasonal allergies, Robin," she shot back, aware of the issues that her and Noire experienced in the latter's timeline, as it always hung in the air whenever the subject of hexing was alluded to. Despite her constant insistence that she wouldn't do what her future self has done, it still pained her to know it could happen. Inside. I mean, anytime she's talking to someone who's not Robin, she says she will. She's kinda messed up as it is. "I just... didn't expect the allergy to be relocated to something like that..."

"Nevertheless, don't. She's our daughter, you kno—" Robin interrupted himself before he could finish, his posture stiff and his eyes wide open... for about three seconds, before nonchalantly stating, "One daughter at a time..." before he hurriedly stepping out of the tent.

Alone, Tharja found solace in talking to herself about things... Yeah, she isn't crazy or anything.

"Well, that was all very interesting... Couldn't say I liked it when he walked away from me there, but it seems that my watching him will be a lot more eventful than usual...!" She smiled, you know the one, as she swiftly grabbed her tome from the _humongous stack that was still there_, and promptly left after her husband. "So long as he is not stressed with the likes of all this, then he and I can spend more of this wondrous time together! _This is what I want, and no one will stand in the way of our paradise!_"

And so, Tharja cackled as she hurried off in the direction of town, unknowingly speaking so loud and so fevered as to disturb a passing-by Lissa as she was about to ask a now absent Robin about something.

"Sheesh, extra-creepy today! I guess Robin isn't in, then... _Now_ what am I supposed to do with these frogs?!"

Lissa lifted her arms and from her hold dropped out a small cadre of amphibians; she didn't care anymore, it would've the _best_ prank, too. Before the princess could walk off, she immediately took notice of a tall shadow and traced it back to Morgan's tower of books.

"Whoa...! That's tall...!"

Indeed it is, Lissa, indeed it is.

* * *

By the time Robin arrived at the nearby town of L'Arachel, named after a famous Magvelian princess of legend, the hustle and bustle of the afternoon rush had gone, and the streets were now pretty open to walk through. It wasn't difficult for him to find where Morgan and Inigo had made off to: a quaint, but high-class restaurant known for its succulent mouthwatering steak and exorbitant, mouth-drying prices.

Ducking behind a bush on the opposite side of the road, Robin can clearly see what they were doing, even if passersby would stop and notice the otherwise conspicuous tactician. Seriously, people could cleanly walk behind him, he didn't hide well at all.

"Well, at least Morgan knows to take him for all he's got." Robin smiled at his own mutterings. "That money would have been frittered away on pointless ventures and/or stolen again. And they say Severa is bad with money..."

Ignoring the funny stares the civilians would give him, Robin situated himself enough to be able to pick up the future kids' conversation, and looking like an idiot at the same time.

Inigo sighed as his "date" went on; Morgan was much more interested in sampling the meals and looking every which way in wonderment. _'Amnesia will do that to someone...,__'_ he sullenly thought. "So, Morgan, how lucky do you feel to be on a date with the one and only?" Inigo's thoughts and words are often disconnected to one another when it came to women.

"Hmm..." Morgan put down her utensils and swallowed some 1750-gold steak as she held a hand up to her mouth, thinking on it. "Won't that be rendered not true when Virion and Olivia decide to try for a child?" Her eyes shot up in realization, gasping as she said, "Then you won't be as unique as you claim, and then you will have nothing! Aww, isn't that sad, Inigo?"

The ladychaser's spirits quickly deflated in hearing Morgan's blunt observation, sulking as he somewhat yelled, "Oh, come on! You are making me out to be a pathetic shell of a man here! Can't we just enjoy each other's company for about an hour?" Pleading the last part, he looked rather rejected to the innocently innocuous Morgan.

"Aww..., that's rather sweet of you...," she started , her tone abruptly changing from accepting to mockery as she continued, "...or rather it would be if you hadn't been staring at the waitress's backside for almost the entirety of this date!"

"It is proportioned well, and I so happen to be an enthusiast!"

Morgan's smile never faltered as she went on, instilling a bit of fear in the future Casanova. "Is that why you were checking out my mother ever since the first time we all went to the beach? I gotta say, you are hilarious at times, but that is _monumentally_ absentminded of you!"

Inigo blanched at the very true accusation. Only one way to save face... He laid himself facedown on the table (easy to do when all of the food was on _Morgan's side!_ Girl is quite the eater) and sobbed as he pleaded, "Yes, it's true, it's _all true_! The women, they call out to me, and I am never one to not answer them! I am a man who needs help, Morgan, because I don't know what to do without you-hoo-_hoo_!"

Morgan was a bit flustered with hearing Inigo's fevered plea, she didn't know whether to feel touched or disturbed..., or cheerful! That last option was always present to her, and Morgan would use it...

She lifted a finger up to her chin, tapping it in a rhythm as she stated with uncertainty, "Uh..., I don't know much about hitting on girls like you do, but... I guess if you need help with that, I can certainly try!"

Inigo looked up from his sob, a little perplexed. "Um, that's not exactly what I meant when I said—"

"All right!" Morgan stood up from her seat with her hands propped up, determined. "I'm here to help! Tell me your lady problems, and I will tell you the strategies to success!" Her little declaration garnered a bit of attention from some people close by, but most of all Inigo and her father.

"W-What...," muttered Robin, still under the best camouflage ever.

"W-What...," Inigo unknowingly said at the same time.

Morgan was now cheerfully smiling as she began digging through her bag and pulling out all manner of scrollery and books, filling up Inigo's side and preventing him from actually having a place to eat...

"The way I see it," she started, "us ladies are a varied sort, and the key to winning someone over would be the ability to roll with the punches. I. E: Being a flexible guy emotionally and all that jazz!"

Inigo raised a brow at her advice. "Huh? I thought I was always very accommodating as a gentleman..."

"Yeah, well, your attempts at connecting with women are about as subtle as Basilio's enthusiasm at beating out most of the others at camp in arm-wrestling that night." Morgan's assessment brought some sweat trickling down the back of Inigo's neck. That hadn't been a fine moment for him, because he had not only lost so handily to him, but made a laughingstock of himself by struggling against _Ricken_! Granted, that was after pulling his muscles very hard against the former Khan. "Surprised to see _Tiki_ be the first one to make him lose... I thought either Sully or Kjelle would've done the trick! Gregor and Priam sure gave him a hard time, and only Walhart was able to do it afterwards! _Then again_, as the Voice—"

"_All right_, I get it...!" The periwinkle-haired youth sank into his chair. "I'm... not exactly subtle with my advances, and that usually entails either rejection, a body blow, or petty larceny being inflicted upon me..."

"That's the spirit, Inigo," chirped the junior tactician, not taking into account (or perhaps ignoring) Inigo's downtrodden mood, "One must know their own weaknesses before committing to a plan of action!" Morgan then gestured for him to huddle up in the center of the table, causing the future lad to turn a little pink in the cheeks.

"Um..., M-Morgan? I'm not sure if I am comfortable—"

"Huh? What's wrong? Hey, I'm not scary! Get over here and plan with me!"

Inigo jumped in his seat at the scary girl's scary command. "Y-Yes, Ma'am!"

"I'm not a Ma'am, I'm too young for that!"

As Robin listened on to their conversation, a sense of relief washed over him as Morgan either deflected or thought nothing of Inigo's advances on her. Though, that is not to say he wasn't wary of the future lad's own feelings...

"What is your aim, Inigo...," he said to himself as he silently gnashed his teeth, "You may be able to hit on every woman you see, but _I_ saw how you acted just now... Also, I won't forget your observance of my wife in her bathing suit anytime soon..."

"Robin? Is that you?"

"Ga—Mmph!"

Robin quickly covered his own mouth as he about to yelp, looking over his shoulder to find a confused-looking Cynthia staring down at him.

"C-Cynthia...," he hoarsely whispered, "what are you doing here...?!"

"My Mom and I are out on the town, shopping for food and other nice things," she cheerfully replied, "Why are you hiding in the bushes like that...? Is there something wrong?" The future Pegasus Knight then had a deluded look in her eye as she gasped out, "Is this a spying mission? Are you gathering Intel on the enemy?! Maybe there's a— _MMmph_!" Robin quickly covered her mouth too as he dragged her down to his level. Everyone's favorite tactician at work.

"Keep quiet, Cynthia, or they'll hear you!" Robin shushed the wannabe hero. Cynthia was always among the most hyper of the future children, and that tends to spill into her everyday routine. The blue-haired girl nodded in understanding and looked in the direction where the tactician was looking... only to be sourly disappointed with what she found.

"Why are you spying on Morgan and Inigo? This doesn't seem very heroic to me."

"I didn't ask you of what you thought, I just didn't want you to yell..."

Robin's blunt reply offended her. She huffed, "How rude! It just looks a little crazy what you're doing, is all!" The Chief Tactician frantically 'shh'ed at her, not pleased with how loud she was and with the attention she was garnering. He then put his hands together as if he were pleading, and to this, Cynthia frowned as she crossed her arms, yelling "What is it?" at him.

"Uh..., please don't tell them I'm doing this," he whispered, "or anyone at all. I'll put you in the frontlines in the Outrealm where we fought all the villains in a fort if you don't!" A seemingly terrible punishment for some, but for this flighty, heroic girl...

"**Really?!** You'd go and do that for little old me?!"

...it was golden. Her eyes sparkled as she bunched her clenched hands towards her face and looked at him.

Robin vigorously nodded yes. The noise that came out of Cynthia was akin to a pissed off Minerva, or Yarne during everyday conversation. In other words, a high pitched screech, as she gave him a crushing hug. The tactician quickly turned as blue as the hair of the future girl before him. She sure was Chrom's daughter, down to the recklessness of her actions.

**THWOCK!**

"OW...!" Cynthia rubbed the back of her head, where a small pebble had hit her. "What was _that_? Who threw that, I was in the middle of a very appreciative—"

"Robin?"

"Gah!"

Word of the day, his name was.

Robin and Cynthia both looked up from their bush to find a puzzled-looking Sumia, who was holding up a variety of bags filled with breads, clothing, books, whatnot. Her head kinked to the side as she tried to make sense of the scene before her.

"_Ww_what are you two doing," she asked with her eyes trained on them both.

"Hi, Mom!" Cynthia exclaimed, still keeping an iron grip on Robin as she spoke. "Robin just gave me a neato position for keeping quiet aroun— MMPH!" Robin threw a hand up to her mouth, silencing her.

"It's nothing, we're doing nothing, Sumia. Please don't judge us..."

Robin's plea just threw another wrench of confusion to the future mother, causing her to intensify her gaze until she came up with a shocking realization. She gasped, horrified, "_Robin, you're married...! And with my daughter, how could__ you?!_" She's kind of imaginative...

Both of the bush Shepherds blanched at the accusation, the two of them losing balance and looking a bit more incriminating as they tried to scramble to their feet.

"Th-That was judging right there! **_No_**, Sumia!" Robin yelled, turning red in embarrassment.

"_Mo~oom!_ Th-that's not it at all! I'd _never_ do that, why would you think that!?" Cynthia was similarly affected; this guy was just a hero to her, despite his quirks.

Sumia was immediately taken aback by their adamant claim otherwise, as they both managed to stand up to her figuratively and literally. Of course Robin would never cheat, he's a good man..., maybe. Sometimes he's a bit of a jerk.

"Oh my...! Are you serious?" she asked honestly, wanting to believe in them and earning fevered nodding from the two. The usually clumsy, first-generation young lady held her hands by her face in disbelief. "How... How could I even jump to such a conclusion?! Oh, I am a horrible, horrible person for even thinking so— OW!"

Sumia had been hit square in the forehead with a pebble, causing her to stagger backwards and then _slipping on Cynthia's pebble and vaulting feet-first in the air!_ She spun a few times before landing flat on her face on the cobblestone below. It truly was a spectacle, so much so that Robin and Cynthia were stunned silent as the minutes passed with Sumia still on the ground, only getting up after a gentle nudging with their feet.

A quick glance back at the projected trajectory of the second pebble, Robin could barely see the headdress of a certain raven-haired temptress peeking out from behind a barrel.

"Tharja..."

...

"_Tharja...?_"

_"Hmm_..., you called, Robin?" Sure enough, Robin's beloved got up from behind her hiding place, a much more better one than Robin's, but don't tell her that. "Like I have said, I am your shadow; I will _always_ be close by...!"

Robin had to resist sighing as she unrepentantly stepped out and walked toward the group, with obscuring tome in hand and pebbles scattering from under her feet.

_'If Frederick needed any more reason to be paranoid around pebbles...' _he thought as Tharja smiled back at him, before she turned to scowl at the clumsy pair of time-and-space-seperated mother and daughter besides him. "Was that really necessary, Tharja?"

"Yes," she bluntly replied back, scaring the daylights out of Sumia and Cynthia (mostly Sumia) with just her regularly sadistic expression, "I simply couldn't control myself as those two got to acting... _improperly_ towards you, my love." Her eyes were then almost completely covered in shadow as she imposingly said, "And the _baseless_ accusations of being **unfaithful** had been too much for me to stand, _**mmmhmhm**...!"_ Her dark, subdued laughter definitely brought terror to the first-gen Pegasus Knight, clutching her future daughter tightly as if it were her last.

"_Mom... Mom..., you're crushing me..._"

"Tharja, _stop scaring them._"

"Fine. By your command..."

The dark mage playfully smiled as she reached over to Robin and puller her away from the bush and closer to her, continuing to glare at a frightened Sumia.

Said frightened Sumia began shaking in place, fully aware of Tharja's reputation of hex-slinging. "I-I..., I'm sorry! I won't do that again, just, _please don't hex me...!_"

Robin smiled gently to calm her down. "Don't worry, she won't—"

"I have a cooking hex that would be _perfect_ for—"

"No."

"Huh." Tharja wilted, having been cut off from doing something she loves. Well..., other than her husband! Ha-HAH! With a dull tone, she turned to the direction of the restaurant and said, "Well, in other news, our daughter and the philanderer have already left..."

"Wait, **seriously?!**" The tactician jerked his neck back towards the restaurant, where the table that Morgan and Inigo sat in was already vacated. "Wonderful..."

"If it helps, they had left shortly after the boy was almost given a concussion from flirting with the waitress." Tharja couldn't look or sound more disinterested in her future daughter's shenanigans if she tried.

Robin rubbed his face with his open palms, frustrated. He really wanted something done now about the situation with Morgan, or at least come up with something to accomplish that. "All right, it looks like I still have work to do then... Let's go, Tharja."

"Wait!" Before they could walk off, however, a slender hand gripped Robin's shoulder. Sumia looked much more resolute as she stared down Robin, only backing off when his unorthodox wife did the same back to her. "Robin, just what is the meaning of this?! You don't just spy on your child and bribe someone else's without a reason!"

"Y-Yeah, what's your deal?" Cynthia spoke up, now free from the motherly embrace, "You were being all crazy just now, I want answers!"

Taking a moment to think on it (Well, Robin was, Tharja just kept trying to pull him away), the Chief Tactician hesitantly nodded. "Fine, I'll tell you," he sternly concluded, "But what I will confer onto you... will change your li—"

"He's being all 'protective father' when it comes to Morgan and the future boys... It's a _wonderful_ feeling, seeing Robin act like this~."

Robin slapped a palm to his face, a facepalm, if you would. "Gods damn it, Tharja, I was trying to come off as _less_ insane than that...!"

"I... think you're doing a good job of that on your own, Robin..." snarked Sumia, still a little uncertain about anything now. Cynthia stuck close to her mother, similarly weirded out.

The tactician paused for a second, mulling over the possibilities and hopefully not having to restart and reload his save.

"Very well then, I think its a good idea to induct you two into our little fold... Come with me, if you wish to learn..."

With that, he immediately turned back around, in the direction of the Shepherd's camp... and ran. He ran with the swiftness of Anna whenever one of her usually airtight get-rich-quick schemes utterly backfires on her, like that time with Tiki, except with an actual chance to escape here.

Tharja was much less willing to run, being unenthusiastic when it came to such activity. When it came to her husband, though...

"Bye."

**ZOOM!**

She could go as fast as Gaius during a sugar rush. This left the Pegasus riders... without a clue as to what's going on, dumbfounded.

"H-Huh?"

"What... was that...?"

Needless to say, Robin better get ready to fess up, or he's liable to mess up!

* * *

**A/N: So, another chapter down! Let's take a look at what's known here and some trivia...**

**Robin: Type 1 body build, Type 2 black hair, and Type 3 voice. Obviously, my Avatar... Yes, I know the implications... I chose Type 3 for the voice because he sounds the coolest, and so that I don't have to hear David Vincent's (Type 1) other similarly voiced characters every time Robin spoke. Nothing personal, but that's just how it is.**

**Robin/Tharja, meaning Morgan and Noire are siblings. I frickin' love how weird Tharja is; I think it's safe to say that she is one of the main reasons I bought Awakening! Yes, I know. Stop staring at me like that, everyone... I also grew incredibly attached to Morgan and Noire, and I loved their sisterly conversations... even though Morgan's sibling supports almost always play out the same.**

**Chrom/Sumia, meaning Lucina and Cynthia are siblings. It... seemed like the obvious choice! Despite some shared grumblings I have with her thing for pies, I found Sumia's character sweet and pleasant!**

**Virion/Olivia, because Inigo's ladychasing and chauvinistic behavior HAD to have come from more than just a ruined future and Olivia's advice being taken way too far. I never liked Inigo all that much, but don't worry, he won't get the shaft here! ... Much.**

**Always put down those reviews! See ya next time!**


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